aroma [Theme] Page 5

I chose you by smell. You know, it happens that a picture is visually beautiful, but in life a person is absolutely tasteless, smelling of emptiness, transparency. It's different with you. First time eye to eye, remember you were late that day? And the buds between the ribs blossomed, and around us the aroma, tart, rich, thick, you could even touch it, dipping your fingers with pleasure. And no matter what happens next, these shades will remain in the memory forever. I close my eyes somewhere on the other side of the planet, and you are in me. Even after through ventilation.

And my soul floats happily.

After Alaska was gone, I didn't think about how it smelled. But when the Colonel opened the door, the nose was hit by this aroma: wet earth, grass, tobacco smoke, and above all this - notes of vanilla milk for the body. She flooded my present again, and it was only out of a sense of tact that I didn't put my head in her overflowing tank of dirty laundry standing by the dresser. Everything was exactly as I remembered: hundreds of books in stacks stand along the walls, a crumpling light purple blanket lying at the feet of the bed, a rickety tower of books and on a small table, a volcano candle sticking out from under the bed. Everything looked as I expected, but the smell, which undoubtedly belonged to Alaska itself, shocked me. I stopped in the middle of the room, closed my eyes, and slowly inhaled through my nose: vanilla, an unmowed autumn grass, but with each slow breath the aroma became weaker as I got used to it, and soon Alaska disappeared again.

Look into the eyes of another - and you will see his soul. Breathe in the scent and open yours.

For a flower, not only the shape is important, but also the aroma. A girl shouldn't be liked just for beautiful fabrics.

The house is the most beautiful place on earth. There the air is saturated with the aroma of ripe pears, the nights there are warm and quiet, and the houses are old and cozy.

For a moment, it seemed to her as if she heard some smell, a strange, lively aroma of sugar, and apples, and blackberry jelly, and smoke. The smell of nostalgia, and for a second she almost understood why Jay loved this place so much with its small vineyards, apple trees and goats that roam the marshy plains. For a moment, she became a little girl again, and grandma baked pies in the kitchen, and the wind from the sea sang in the telephone wires.

But he also froze, subdued.

Use your eyesight every day as if blindness will strike you tomorrow. Hear the sounds of voices, birds singing as if tomorrow you will be deaf forever. Breathe in the aroma of flowers, enjoy the taste of food as if tomorrow you will lose your sense of smell and everything will become insipid for you.

These joyful days,
drunk with intoxicating aroma,
I waited - and here we are
again admire the autumn glow
in the crowns of evergreen trees...

Floats in silence
the aroma of incenary smoking.
Sadly ferment
along winding alleys,
inhale the air of Gion...

The scent trail stretches ...

dark purple of thickened haze! ..